


we love what can't be good for us

by atlantisairlock



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Backstory, Coming of Age, F/F, Life Partners, Motorcycles, Teenage Rebellion, Underage Smoking, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock
Summary: Lou spins, roars, barrels into Debbie's life at fifteen years of age, rubber burning on asphalt and wicked grin on her lips.





	we love what can't be good for us

**Author's Note:**

> some backstory to this one: so the idea is that the oceans are _the_ crime family to be known  & feared by everyone in the underworld. lou is also born into crime & knows who they are from a young age because her family teaches her who the oceans are, but strikes out #lonewolf #rebelwithoutacause style to lead her own life of crime all on her own. also kind of a nineties-ish vibe? 
> 
> title from 'volcanic love' by the aces.

 

Lou spins, roars, barrels into Debbie's life at fifteen years of age, rubber burning on asphalt and wicked grin on her lips.

Fifteen years of existence, and Lou is what truly brings Debbie to life, what opens her eyes, what puts the world in perspective, makes it make sense. 

Always Lou, always.

 

 

She spends fifteen years wondering, searching, grasping and snatching at air, at smoke, disappearing through her fingers. Spends fifteen years trying and failing, again and again, to understand her family, her home, the environment she grows up in. The world that surrounds her but that she is never allowed to touch. 

Her father locks his study behind him and never lets her see the key. Her mother burns papers in the fire until they're ash. Her brother ruffles her hair and tells her  _when you're older, when you're wiser, next month, next year, next._

She peers over the edge, tries, every time, clutches at nothing, falls. 

 

 

She finds Lou in school - a transfer student, a new kid, an arrival - or more accurately, Lou finds her. 

 _Deborah Ocean,_ the very first thing she says, with that amused smile on her face, the one Debbie will soon learn to find familiar. Debbie frowns.  _How do you know my name?_

Lou grins, wide, unabashed, and it captivates Debbie, draws her in, moth, flame.  _Oh, sweetheart,_ Lou says,  _who doesn't?_

 

 

Once Lou finds her, she digs her toes in, grabs hold, doesn't let go. Appears on Debbie's front porch, all innocent smiles and homework undone in her backpack and chattering politely to Debbie's parents, manipulating her way into the living room without fear, without force. Ends up on the rug in Debbie's room with two essays finished and that gleam in her eye. 

 _You don't understand why I know your name,_ Lou says - never asks, Lou never asks, from the beginning, so sure of herself and what she understands of the world.  _I think it's you who doesn't understand how much weight it carries. To be an Ocean._

 _I'm just me,_ Debbie says, and Lou shakes her head.  _You are so much more than that._

 

 

She's an Ocean, Lou explains. She's an Ocean, even if her family has shielded her from what that means for her entire life. She's an Ocean, and it runs in her blood - lawlessness, recklessness, bravery, raw intelligence, ambition. A thirst to be powerful, to win, to succeed. Against what - those are just details. 

 _You could be good,_ Lou tells her.  _You could be great._

 _I could be better,_ Debbie replies, and Lou throws her head back and laughs.  _There you go. Already getting it._

 

 

Lou never asks, but also never presumes, never judges, never mocks - never. Lou shows Debbie who she could be, and then lets her be it, without reservation, without presumption. Watches her back, guards her front, stands by her shoulder, never asking of Debbie more than she can give. 

 _You've never smoked?_ Lou says, one afternoon when they're by the beach and she catches Debbie staring at the cigarette in her mouth. It's still early on in their friendship, before Debbie truly measures this girl she is standing beside, and she flinches, waiting for mockery, waiting for gentle teasing which never comes. Lou simply shrugs, pulls another stick out of her case and passes it to Debbie, their fingers brushing.  _Between your lips. Like this._

She shows Debbie how to light it, places one slender hand against Debbie's chest and shows her how to inhale, how to hold, how it should feel, her eyes locked on Debbie's the entire time. Debbie feels arctic ice swirl in her chest, her throat, but Lou's hand is warm against her skin, heat prickling goosebumps down her arms. 

She never really enjoys the hit of nicotine, but loves watching Lou exhale, curls of grey in the air, and she never stops wanting to slide her mouth over Lou's when she does it, breathing in, consuming. 

 

 

By sophomore year it's all Debbie can do to hold herself back from asking her parents, her brother, pleading, demanding, threatening -

 _I know what we do, I know what our name stands for, I know what power I can hold, and I know what you have taken from me_ - 

She bites her tongue. She's sixteen, still young, but not stupid. 

Alone, with nothing to her name but herself, with nothing but her own legacy to live up to, perhaps - that is power, too.

She could be good. She could be great. 

She could be better.

She will be. 

 

 

With what she knows of Lou, now, Debbie understands why she would have come up to her, that first day, that very first time, to make her acquaintance. To get to know Deborah Ocean, before she knew  _Debbie._

What she doesn't understand is why she stayed. 

 _I stayed for you,_ Lou says when she asks, so simply, like it's the easiest solve in the world, and Debbie feels it warm her, inside and out.  _But I'm just me._

 _Exactly,_ Lou agrees.  _You're just you._

 

 

Lou gets her bike at seventeen, a beautiful creature, second-hand and stolen but gleaming under the moonlight, purring down the streets. Debbie falls for it like she falls for Lou - instantly, blindingly, beyond all reason, the very first time she sees it. The very first time, when Lou spins into her driveway complete with requisite helmet and jet-black bomber jacket. Eyes bright, hair tied back, looking so beautiful, so radiant, so alive. She shows off in front of Debbie for three minutes, and by the end of those three minutes, Debbie is already sure this is where they both belong.

 _Teach me to ride,_ she says - doesn't ask but doesn't demand, because with Lou, she has never needed to do either. 

 _Oh, baby,_ Lou says, grinning.  _Hop on._

 

 

Someone throws a homophobic slur at the two of them in class one day, and ends up in hospital after somehow accidentally falling down two flights of stairs. 

Debbie sits with her back against the bike shed, shoulder pressed against Lou's, her weight and warmth familiar and comforting.  _Why were you so angry at what he said?_

Lou exhales a ring of smoke and sighs, turning to press an absent kiss against Debbie's forehead.  _People say shit like that, try to make us feel ashamed of each other,_ she says.  _And I could never be ashamed of you. Never be ashamed of myself._

 _You're not ashamed by anything,_ Debbie says, lighthearted, and Lou nods, a fond smile on her face.  _Sure as hell not ashamed to love you._

 

 

  
Senior year ends and Lou doesn't need to tell her that she's leaving after graduation, but Debbie knows.

 _Where will you go?_  Debbie asks, under the velvet night, roof shingles an uneven pressure against her back. Lou laughs, soft. _Wherever I want. Far away._

Debbie sits up, moves, manoeuvres herself gracefully on top of Lou, knees bracketing her waist, fingers curled together. _Take me with you._

And Lou brings Debbie's hand to her lips, brushing the briefest kiss against her knuckles, her palm.  _Wherever you want._

 _Riding eternal, shiny and chrome,_ Debbie says. 

 _Eternal,_ Lou agrees, and pulls her down to kiss her.

**Author's Note:**

> me: [ has a bunch of prompts from some really sweet readers who took the time to comment what they wanted to see ] okay, time to work on stuff to please the people!  
> my shit brain: :)  
> me: no... don't do it... please  
> my shit brain: WRITE SOMETHING BASED ON THIS COMPLETELY OFF-TANGENT PROMPT IDEA THAT YOU CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT NOW THAT I'VE CONCEPTUALISED IT FOR YOU.  
> me: fffucking hell 
> 
> to everyone who prompted me, i am so sorry. i promise i'm working on the prompts, no thanks to My Shit Brain. as ever, open to o8 requests, any ship, go wild.


End file.
